


commercial filming

by godcheekbones



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 10:22:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10614918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godcheekbones/pseuds/godcheekbones
Summary: Minseok is not attracted to Luhan. Nope. (Also, what's up with the Canadian.)





	

PD Kim Minseok was unhappy. The star of his commercial for male swimsuits looked… scrawny. The entertainment company had given a last minute notice of schedule conflicts; with the would-be model Tao currently picking up a Newcomer Actor award. They swapped Tao with a Luhan.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Luhan’s manager said, sympathetically whacking Minseok on the back of the shoulder.  
  
 _Personal space?!_ Besides, Minseok was busy weeping into his script in his director’s chair. “Hands off!”  
  
“I’m sorry,” repeated the manager in surprise. When Minseok looked up… and then looked up some more, he thought he knew why. With a face like that, the manager could command an entire rescheduling of the commercial shoot and the entire crew would scramble to obey. Not Minseok though. Nopeeee. Eh, he hoped. “I’m Canadian.”  
  
“I see,” Minseok answered faintly. “Fine. I can’t do anything about this. Let’s just see how good Xiao Lu is.”  
  
They were filming in an outdoors pool. It was too cold for people to swim, which was perfect because it was free privacy. Luhan sat on the edge of the pool, kicking his legs in the water pensively as he waited for his manager to settle the change in models. Minseok felt sorry for him. He looked like he belonged in a baby pool.  
  
Minseok crouched beside Luhan. “Hey,” he began, wondering about the Chinese man’s command of the language. A second later, he started to worry about whether Luhan could swim, because the man had yelped at the sudden conversation and fell into the pool.  
  
It was Minseok squatting by the poolside, as Luhan kicked his legs and broke the surface of the water. Luhan’s gasps were drowned out, pun unintended, by Minseok’s slow clapping. The water dripping from the long eyelashes and slipping down the point of the smooth chin…  
  
“Hey, Yixing, are you thinking what I am thinking?” Minseok yelled, reaching out a hand for Luhan to grab onto. When there was no response from Yixing, he looked behind his shoulder. “YAH! Stop flirting with my camera man, Canadian!”  
  
Yixing had a light reflector tucked under one arm, talking by the side to the tall manager. “His name is Kris!” offered Yixing, at least having the decency to flush pink. “I mean – I was thinking about Kris but now it’s obvious to me that’s not what you were thinking of–”  
  
Minseok pinched his nose bridge. “Close-ups!” he ordered. “We’re doing close-ups!”  
  
“Close-ups of his crotch?” repeated Yixing blankly.  
  
"What."  
  
Minseok was about to explain, but the manager cut in.  
  
“I’m uncomfortable with that,” admitted Kris, folding his arms and dropping into one of the foldable chairs by the poolside, where people liked to lie down on and tan. “But since it’s a commercial for male swimsuits, I suppose I have no choice.”  
  
“You talk like you’re the one acting…” Minseok sighed.  
  
“Did you say something, PD-nim?”  
  
“No, Canadian.”  
  
  
  
Minseok thought that banishing Kris from the swimming pool would make things easier, but all it did was bring Yixing’s focus back to the cameras, which face it, was something he should have been doing from the beginning. The doe-eyed model had frozen up without his manager. They wanted the model to look sexy, not to look like he needed a lifeguard.  
  
“Come here,” Minseok said eventually, beckoning Luhan with his hand. The model propped himself up with his elbows at the edge of the pool. “How old are you? Fifteen?”  
  
“Twenty-two.”  
  
“What.”  
  
“It’s really cold.” Luhan stuck out his lower lip. Minseok mentally did a facepalm. His model was not camera-shy (though he could not rule out the possibility yet); he was _literally_ freezing up.  
  
“Okay, get him out of the water,” Minseok advised the filming crew. “Keep the footage we have; we’re doing the rest in the studio.”  
  
Yixing put up a hand. “We need to find Kris to tell him where we’re going.”  
  
“Forget the Canadian.”  
  
“Pardon?”  
  
“I said, you can get his number from Luhan.”  
  
“No need for that,” Yixing said mysteriously. Minseok sighed.  
  
  
  
While Yixing disappeared, Minseok gave the filming crew an hour recess. He leaned in his black director’s chair, flipping through the storyboards attached to his clipboard. They could work the material, he thought. With some of his directing magic, some of Yixing’s filming magic, and a lot of faith in the editing department, they could produce something commercially successful.  
  
“Ah, you didn’t mention anything about my acting,” noted a male voice sadly. What was it with these people and not tapping him for attention before speaking? Dressed in a fluffy white robe, Luhan was holding out a packet of juice to him.  
  
“You’re doing fine,” dismissed Minseok, with a wave of a hand. “Look pretty for the camera. Shouldn’t you be with your manager?”  
  
“Kris is busy.” Luhan shook out the packet again.  
  
Minseok supposed there was no choice but to entertain him. Luhan looked like he needed parental supervision, or he would get kidnapped. Maybe that was why Kris was attached to him as the manager.  
  
“Kris is new to the manager position,” Luhan explained, tearing the plastic from the straw and spitting it out into the palm of his hand. Minseok stared. How much of a kid can he get? “However, he’s Chinese so he can handle the overseas promotions comfortably.” He gave a small smile in Minseok’s direction. “You don’t like him very much, do you?”  
  
“I’m fine with him,” Minseok said defensively, holding both hands out. “It’s my camera man that I want to strangle.”  
  
Luhan hummed. When he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement. “I’ll look for Kris then,” he said, bowing, “please look after me well in the filming.”  
  
Minseok didn’t realize his gaze was transfixed on the model until Luhan disappeared around the corner. No, he was not falling for that eye smile. Nopeeee. Luhan was merely being charismatic, as expected for a model.  
  
  
  
“I’d tap that ass any day,” declared the studio owner, and while Yixing gaped in injury and Kris put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly, Minseok pulled Luhan to the side in panic.  
  
It was ridiculous how routine it was, that whenever Minseok filmed a commercial in that studio, he began reciting the terms and conditions of the contract, which included not suing the filming crew for any verbal harassment that might be accounted by a third party. They had learnt how to word that contract, from experience.  
  
“I don’t mind,” Luhan said innocently, smiling that stupid eye smile again. “It’s kind of flattering. That is, if he’s talking about my ass and not Yixing’s.”  
  
Minseok was slightly taken back. “Oh- _kay_.”  
  
“Let’s do this well, shall we?” Luhan pulled his fist down in the air and mouthed, “Fighting!” Where did the acting scouts find this kid, in a kindergarten?  
  
Minseok did not find himself pulling a similar action and saying, “Fighting!” back.  
  
Nopeeee.  
  
When Yixing shot him a puzzled gaze at the out-of-character behavior, Minseok cleared his throat and yelled, “Come on, people, cameras on in five.”  
  
  
  
For all his shameless way with words, Jongdae was in fact a professional that Minseok’s filming crew had the pleasure to work with on several occasions. The studio was already set up, despite the one hour heads-up, and Jongdae pointed out the spots for Yixing’s cameras.  
  
“What are you filming?” Jongdae asked, jamming his hands in the pockets of his windbreaker. “Can I stick around? I’m bored and your model is good-looking.”  
  
“Stay away from Xiao Lu,” Minseok told him firmly. “You made Lee Min Ho cry before. I didn’t think that was possible. He’s the epitome of manly.”  
  
“Are you saying I reduce men to get in touch with their feminine side?”  
  
In the grey windbreaker and bed hair, Jongdae looked every part a good-looking Korean male, until he pulled his body back and fanned himself as he made a decent impression of the American rapper.  
  
“My eyes need soap. Go away, Jongdae, I’m working.”  
  
Jongdae shrugged at his friend. “I will, once the cameras start rolling.” He jerked his thumb behind him, where Luhan was on standby near the green backdrop. “Anyway. He’s feminine enough already.”  
  
“When you’re done insulting my model, send me a text so I can do my job, will you?”  
  
Sighing, Jongdae backed down. “Alright, alright. Keep your underwear on.”  
  
“I don’t think that’s the correct English phrase, Jongdae-ah. Is the Canadian teaching you weird things?”  
  
Jongdae eyed Minseok. “Why so sassy today? You even let me _literally_ tap Lee Min Ho’s ass before kicking me out. What’s a jibe or two at Xiao Lu over there? Unless…” He imitated pulling Cupid’s arrow and grabbed at his heart. “Is Xiao Lu giving you weird feels?”  
  
Cackling, he ran away before Minseok could strangle him.  
  
  
  
Three tiring hours later, Yixing meekly tapped Minseok’s shoulder. Now, that was how a person got the PD’s attention, thought Minseok wearily. It must be the exhaustion getting to him; to feel the small swelling of pride in his camera man at the simple action, and for him to glare at Kris and gesture indicatively _this is how you do it, American_.  
  
“I’m Canadian,” Kris corrected, without spite. He was sitting with his back to the dark screen behind of which Luhan was drying off finally changing into normal clothes.  
  
“I think we can wrap up,” Yixing put his two cents in. Minseok forced himself to look away from the screen. “We’ve used all three swim suits given to us, plus a locker room scene that I don’t recall seeing on the storyboards.”  
  
Minseok let the comment slide because Yixing was frowning slightly in genuine confusion, whereas Jongdae on the other hand was outright smirking at him from his seat by the computer screens. “It’s for the editing team,” Minseok said shortly, turning up the glare a notch for the studio owner’s benefit.  
  
“Are you unhappy with the material, PD Kim?” Luhan asked, wandering out. He had pulled an oversized shirt over his head.  
  
“No, no.”  
  
Jongdae turned around in his swivel seat. “He’s disappointed to see you leave,” he supplied accurately.  
  
Minseok was two steps away from murder – a fact Jongdae was aware of, because the agile man ran to hide behind Kris.  
  
“Then I’m disappointed too.”  
  
Luhan smiled at Minseok. He stepped closer…and closer, until Minseok could count the number of eyelashes on each eye…  
  
“I’d say ‘Get a room’,” Jongdae began brightly, leaning out from behind Kris’s frame, “but you’re not starting a sexual relationship with a minor, are you Minseok?”  
  
Kris clamped a hand firmly over Jongdae’s mouth.  
  
Minseok paused. “You’re not bad, Canadian,” he said finally.  
  
“Thank you.”


End file.
